


Like a Number One

by colazitron



Category: Ed Sheeran (Musician), One Direction
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-07
Updated: 2012-01-07
Packaged: 2017-11-27 04:31:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,566
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/658037
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/colazitron/pseuds/colazitron
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ed is down and Harry wants to do something about it. Luckily, Louis has a plan.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Like a Number One

**Like a Number One**

_All I do is eat and sleep and sing._

Harry stares down at the text message with a grin spreading his lips and a frown creasing his eyebrows. He’d assume it was a joke if it weren’t a weird line to pick to make the joke. So he bites his lip and lets his fingers fly over the screen. The radio DJ looks at him from the other side of the desk and grins and winks like he thinks Harry’s texting a girl.

_Did you text me this from Glasgow?_

The reply is instantaneous.

_Edinburgh. What does that have to do with anything?_

Okay, Harry thinks. Not a joke then. Before he gets the chance to text back though, the DJ signals them that they’ll be on the air in a few moments and so Harry checks the phone is really on mute (he may be a bit obsessive about that) and puts it on the table in front of himself.

“Alright, good morning!” the DJ starts them off. “I’ve got some guests with me here this morning. Say hello to the nation, boys!”

They all whoop and shout “Good Morning” in various silly accents and the DJ laughs at/with them.

“So if you haven’t guessed, the One Direction lads are in the studio with me for a little chat about the release of their third single! How’s it feel, boys? Last year this time, did you even already know there was ever going to be a first single?”

“Ah, I think... we did, right?” Zayn starts them off, turning to Liam.

“Yeah, I think we’d just been informed or maybe even already signed?”

“It’s a bit of a blur,” Louis cuts in. “The x-factor weeks were amazing and then to be thrown home into Christmas and New Years and then right back out into contract talk and knowing that the x-factor tour was still going to happen at some point... it messes with your head a bit.”

“Your head’s already a mess, mate,” Niall cuts in, earning himself an excited “Ooooh!” from the DJ and laughter from the boys.

“Trouble in paradise?”

“Nah, we just all take the piss out of each other, really. And Louis does it most, so...” Harry adds.

“Hang on, that’s not true,” Louis protest but is cut off by a four-voiced chorus of “yes, it is”. Louis grins as if pleased and they all turn quiet again and wait for their next question.

“So, then. Third single. Tell me about it,” the DJ invites and Harry’s phone lights up with a text but stays blessedly silent. Harry’s heart stutters a bit, but he catches himself as Zayn explains that it’s a bit more like What Makes You Beautiful, rather than Gotta Be You, a bit more of a happy, poppy song.

“And you’ve shot a video for this?”

“Yeah, the video’s already out,” Niall explains and launches into a tale, so Harry figures he’s safe to at least read the text.

_Oh, fuck. Alright. That was NOT on purpose._

He can’t keep his lips from twitching but apparently the DJ catches him.

“Hang on. For all you who can’t see us right now, yeah? Harry’s been texting someone rather eagerly just before we started and now he’s just got another text that’s made him smile like the figurative Cheshire cat!”

“Or literal!” Louis adds, inciting laughter and the ruffling of Harry’s hair.

“So who’s the text from then, Harry, that it’s so important?” the DJ asks, waggling his eyebrows and Harry can’t help the slightly smug smirk, because he knows the answer’s not what he’s looking for.

“Ed Sheeran,” he says truthfully. The DJ’s grin falls, but he catches himself quickly.

“Are you mates then?” he asks and sometimes Harry wonders how this is still news to some people, but then, neither of them have ever really broadcast their friendship.

“Yeah. We have a mutual friend and Ed lived on his sofa for a while last year, so that’s how that happened...” he explains and trails off. If Ed hadn’t been joking, then he was... mopey. Which was strange enough in itself because Ed regarded moping as a waste of time. Especially when he was on tour.

“So, what’s the important news?”

“Nothing, really,” Harry says and frantically searches his brain. “He’s going to give away all his Lego cause he’s sick of it.”

“Also, a pig just flew past this window, in case you’re wondering,” Louis helps out.

“And the seventh circle of hell is experiencing rather unusual weather phenomena. There is what appears to be snow,” Liam adds. “And now back to you, Dan.”

The DJ laughs and then announces a song, dropping it. As soon as the music starts playing, Harry grabs his phone.

_In a radio interview rn, call you after?_

_Sure._

Harry suppresses a deep sigh and Louis pushes their knees together under the table to get his attention. When Harry looks over at him, Louis pulls a face and Harry can’t help the grin that breaks out over his face. Louis shoots him a look that clearly says “Good, keep that there, you’re being suspicious” and Harry fondly rolls his eyes. But he’s glad that Louis’s looking out for him. He doesn’t really fancy sharing his or Ed’s woes with the world.

The song ends and for the rest of the interview Harry tries his best to be a part of the conversation and bantering, distracting everyone from the phone that’s still lying in front of him. Ed doesn’t text again and Harry knows that he wouldn’t, even if he really wanted to. So if he’s squirming a bit in his seat, like he’s sitting on hot coals, wanting to get out of here, it’s a good thing that Louis throws a casual arm over his shoulders and presses him down, gently enough for no one else to notice, but decisive enough to make him stop. The DJ drops the issue of the texts - obviously satisfied now that he knows that the texts were either not important or they were not going to tell him more either way. As soon as it’s over though and they have said their goodbyes and left at a speed quick enough to make their next appointment and slow enough to be polite and not look like they’re running away, Harry’s fingers fly over his phone before he presses it to his ear, listening to the dial tone.

One ring.

Two.

Come on, Ed.

Three.

Fo-

“Yeah?”

“Hi, Ed,” Harry says and he hears a fondness in his own voice that he knows is the reason for Louis ducking down to hide his smile a bit. He reaches a hand out to the side and swats at him without looking, catching his elbow.

“Harry. Hi,” Ed says back and it’s in his voice as well. Harry’s glad he’s not prone to blushing, because otherwise he probably would, right now.

“How are you?” Harry asks and is glad that Louis falls two steps behind him, giving him at least a little bit of privacy and probably keeping the other lads from catching up with him and shouting random things in his ear.

“I’m good,” Ed answers and Harry rolls his eyes even though he can’t see it.

“Right. That’s why you unintentionally quoted somewhat mopey ABBA at me,” he mocks and earns himself a weak chuckle.

“Yeah, well. Except for that, I guess,” he concedes and heaves a deep sigh before going on. “Look, it’s really sweet that you called, but you’re busy, and there’s really nothing you can do over the phone, I’m just being a bit stupid. So, don’t worry, alright?”

They both know that’s not going to happen. Harry hates it when people he cares about are feeling down for whatever reason and he hates it even more when you tell him that he can’t do anything about it.

“Are you sure there’s nothing-” he says, but Ed cuts him off.

“You’re in London. I’m in Edinburgh. You have a show tonight and so do I. Yeah, I’m pretty sure there’s nothing you can do right now.”

Harry makes a disgruntled sound and sighs, rubbing a hand over his face. Louis has stepped up next to him and puts a warm and comforting palm on his shoulder. He sends him a thankful but wobbly smile and then watches him climb into the car, ducking his head to follow.

“This sucks,” he assesses and Ed chuckles humourlessly.

“Yeah, sometimes it does. But, hey, we’re living the dream, let’s not forget that, yeah?”

As if on cue, the car slowly passes the mass of screaming girls outside the radio station and Harry has to chuckle. He’s pretty sure Ed can hear the screaming through the phone.

“Does this sound like I could ever forget?” he asks, a sarcastic but pleased lilt to his voice. He’d never truly complain about his life. He wanted it and now he has it. He really is living the dream and he knows Ed sees his life the same way.

“I forgot you have your own surround screaming everywhere you go...” Ed teases and then they both lapse into silence.

“So, I’ll let you go again then...” Ed finally says and Harry’s face falls. He would’ve gladly stayed on the phone just to be quiet with Ed, but he’s fully aware of how pathetic that is.

“Alright...” he agrees and bites his lip to keep in a sigh. He meant to cheer Ed up with his call, not depress him further.

“Talk to you soon, then.” It’s not much of an admission, but Ed’s usually all cheer and sarcasm and jabs, so to Harry it almost sounds a little heartbreaking.

“Promise,” he answers and tries to lay all the things they never say in that one word.

“Bye,” Ed says finally and Harry thinks he can hear him smile before the line goes dead and he lowers the phone, the corners of his own mouth pointing decidedly downwards. He tries not to sigh because the car’s suspiciously quiet and even though he stares down at the phone in his hands, he kind of knows, or fears at least, that Louis next to him is watching him. So instead he inhales deeply and lets the air out slowly. Liam and Zayn are talking to each other in murmurs and Niall is fucking around on his own phone he finds when he looks up. That would explain the quiet. Louis though really is looking at him and shoots him a sympathetic smile, throwing an arm over his shoulders and pulling his head down to rest on his own.

“He alright?” he asks quietly so the others can’t hear and Harry allows himself a moment of weakness and shakes his head minutely into Louis’ shoulder.

“D’you miss him?” he then goes on, his hand carding through Harry’s hair gently, already soothing a bit of his melancholia away. In the absence of a cat to stroke, having Louis stroke him like a cat is a very acceptable replacement.

“‘Course I do,” Harry murmurs and Louis sighs, because of course he knew that. He misses Eleanor as well - would even more if he knew she was down. At least he can rush to see her and people won’t find it weird. Harry and Ed though... that’s an entirely different situation. It’s not even that either of them would be ashamed to be seen with the other and while all the coming out (but not really because they’re not gay, just into each other) press would be tedious, it’s not that either. It’s that they’re realists and know what their relationship would do to both their careers. It might seem cruel to have to take a step back with their relationship (and it’s a fucking huge step at that) ‘just’ because of their jobs, but it’s not just a job for either of them. As much as Ed’s hailed by the press and the public and his fans as the UK’s biggest talent - at least in the singer-songwriter department - if they were to go public, he’d go from “musical genius” to “Harry Styles’ boyfriend” in the blink of an eye. It’s neither of their faults, it’s just the way the tabloids work. One Direction may not have been around as long as Ed but, in his own words, ‘they’re stars and he’s just a bloke who makes music’. It’s already _Ed_ who gets asked about being ‘the sixth 1D member’ and ‘how it was to work with them’ when it’s actually _them_ falling over their feet to thank him for the song he gave them.

“Where is he right now?” Louis asks and there’s something in the tone of his voice like he’s not entirely in the conversation. It’s how he sounds when he’s planning something and Harry’s eyebrows draw closer together instinctively.

“Edinburgh. Why?”

“It had to be the other side of the bloody country...” Louis mumbles and Harry snorts in wry amusement. When it rains, it pours.

“D’you want to go up to see him tomorrow? Of course you do.” He answers his own question in the same breath and his hand doesn’t still as he goes on. “I’ve got a plan. All we need is a plane and a pilot and I’ll take care of the rest.”

“I know a pilot with a plane,” Harry says, because he actually does. He’d gotten to talking with their helicopter pilot that one crazy time they got flown around the country for signings and found out the man had recently bought a small private plane that he liked to take his grand-daughter up in. They’d exchanged numbers because Harry had always been fascinated with flying and the pilot had offered to sometime take him up and show him a few things and maybe Harry would be tickled enough to get a pilot’s license himself.

“You do?” Louis asks like he’s been at least half joking.

“Yeah. Do you not have a plan?”

“No, I do. This is actually do-able now. But you need to get through today first, okay?”

“Okay,” Harry agrees quietly and then lets his eyes slip shut and relaxes into Louis’ continuous petting. When Liam turns around to look at them and asks about Harry’s weirdly down-trodden attitude, Louis tells him he’s not feeling well and he probably just needs some rest. They all know of Harry’s history of illnesses and sore throats and Liam grimaces.

“I’ll be fine tonight,” Harry promises and goes along with what might already be part of Louis’ scheme (or just a prank). He feels perfectly well, physically, but his emotional state lends itself nicely to playing a bit sick.

After the next interview, Louis drags him to the loo and tells him to sort out the pilot and the plane to take him up to Edinburgh tonight after their show and back in time for their next one tomorrow.

“But I’ll miss all the promo,” Harry protests and Louis waves him off.

“You’ll be a bit sick and no one wants you losing your voice so no one will question it if you stay home one day. We’re in London, you can stay in our flat, only of course you won’t be. I’ll drive you to the airport tonight and come pick you up tomorrow afternoon. Just don’t go wandering around Edinburgh tomorrow.”

“Are you sure this’ll work?”

“Yes. If I have to, I’ll get the others involved but I’m pretty sure if I say I’ve ordered you bedrest they’ll accept it. It’s just radio, it won’t matter. We can do a day without you. You haven’t seen Ed since way before Christmas, you need this day. And you’d do the same for me and El,” Louis tacks on with a shrug and Harry knows he would. So he agrees to the plan and calls up his pilot friend. Harry doesn’t think he’ll be thrilled to fly to Edinburgh just for a night and that he’ll turn him down and then that entire plan is worthless because it’s too far to drive, but to his surprise, he laughs and agrees. “If it’s to see a friend,” he says. Harry tells him he’ll pay for everything of course and then Liam comes in to drag them off again, eyeing Harry worriedly.

Shortly before their show, Harry manages to reach Stuart, Ed’s manager, and make sure that Ed doesn’t have any promo planned tomorrow himself. Stuart promises that they got all that out of the way today and even says he’ll come pick Harry up at the airport. He seems to think Ed could use the company. Louis grins at him when he tells him in hushed tones just before they go on stage and it’s with a new sense of accomplishment that Harry rushes on stage and through that night’s show.

Since they’re in London, getting home afterwards doesn’t take long. Harry stays quiet and subdued on the drive and Louis talks to Liam in hushed tones, no doubt planting the seeds for tomorrow. Harry’s a bit sorry for deceiving the other lads as well, but the fewer people know about it, the less likely they are to be discovered, he knows that. He can always apologise after and he’s pretty sure they’re going to understand. Louis comes over to sling an arm over his shoulders when they get out the car and steers him towards their flat.

“Told Liam I’m sending you to bed early. They won’t come looking for us before tomorrow.”

Harry smiles at him gratefully and has to suppress ridiculous giggles as they make their way to their flat. Once inside, Harry changes into a new set of clothes and stuffs fresh underwear and emergency toiletries in his overnight bag, before meeting Louis back by the front door. He hasn’t bothered to change yet.

“Got everything? Money, keys, phone?” he asks as Harry slips back into his shoes.

“Yes, mum,” Harry grins and pulls on his coat. They make their way to Louis’ car quickly, but can’t help the giggling because this all feels a little ridiculous. The drive to the airport is loud and happy and Harry has excited butterflies in his stomach. They punch the address of the small airport for private planes into the sat nav and mock the directions it gives amidst their chatter and singing along to the radio. Louis drives Harry right onto the tarmac, where they meet Harry’s pilot friend. It’s a bit windy and chilly and Harry pulls his coat more tightly around himself wondering for an absurd moment when someone’s going to call out “cut”, because surely this cannot be his life. As ridiculous as it is, surely it cannot be this.

Instead, Louis just hugs him and mumbles a goodbye to him.

“Text me when you’ve landed safely.”

“Will do. Thank you for this,” Harry grins and squeezes Louis’s back before stepping back and onto the plane. Louis watches him take off and Harry laughs a little as they leave the ground behind because he’s felt like he’s flying since they got into the car and now he actually is. The flight only takes about two hours and they chat it away amiably, both held awake by caffeine. Harry’s pilot - John - tells him about the different instruments and explains the basics of plane engines to Harry while they pass over clouds and when Harry’s not busy staring outside and feeling closer to the stars than he ever has, it’s actually pretty interesting. John offers to let him take the figurative wheel once, but Harry blanches and declines. He’s not about to touch anything inside the cockpit without excessive studies and training; he values his life too much for that. John laughs at him and assures him he couldn’t actually do anything that bad, but doesn’t push it. When they lower down over Edinburgh and John asks the tower for permission to land, their conversation peters out and honestly Harry’s a bit glad for it. He’d rather know that John’s full concentration is on the plane anyway.

They land without a hitch and Harry follows John off the airport, feeling a bit like a puppy. He’s got a beanie on to hide all his hair behind and is bundled up in his coat and a scarf to hide most of his face. It’s also past one am and no one knows he’s supposed to be here, so that’s bound to work in his favour.

 _Made it_ , he texts Louis.

 _Good! Now have a nice night/day and come back safe and sound tomorrow!_ Louis texts back. Harry grins bemusedly and looks up to make sure he’s still following John before texting back.

_If you’re having El stay over, I bought that cereal she likes. Should be in the cupboard somewhere._

_You’re dating Ed, not her or me,_ Louis answers this time and Harry can practically see the petulant but impressed pout.

 _I can date all three of you if I want to,_ he writes and then texts Stuart, asking him where he is. Another short text conversation later, they find him in the airport café and he offers to take John to a nearby hotel. John declines and says he’s got a friend working in the tower that he’ll go see and reminds Harry to be punctual the next day if he wants to make it back in time for his show. Harry smiles gratefully and envelops him in a hug.

“Thank you so much.”

“Oh, go on,” John laughs. “It’s my pleasure. It’s been a long while since I’ve done something this ridiculous.”

Stuart steers Harry outside to his car and thankfully no one spots them. Since they’re in Edinburgh for two days, Stuart decided to get them all hotel rooms - or at least that’s what he told Ed. Harry laughs a bit to himself, trying not to let too much of his giddiness at the prospect of seeing Ed show. Stuart knows about them because he’s almost like a second father to Ed and he’s said he’d never force Ed to keep it quiet, but he agrees that it’s probably for the best. Still, as long as Harry doesn’t make him unhappy, he seems fully supportive of their relationship.

“Just give him back in one piece tomorrow,” he cautions jokingly, when he tells Harry Ed’s room number and drops him off at the elevator before leaving for the bar. Harry grins at him tiredly, the day finally catching up with him.

“I’m pretty sure we’re both too knackered to anything other than sleep.”

Stuart smiles at him fondly but also like he doesn’t entirely believe him and Harry smiles to himself as he gets on the elevator and watches the doors close and then the light move from one number to the next slowly. He steps out onto the deserted hallway when the doors ding open and listens to the sound of his own heavy footsteps on the carpeted floor. Coming to a stop in front of Ed’s room, he debates quietly whether he should knock or call him. He fingers his phone in his coat pocket as he stares at the “do not disturb sign” on the door knob and finally pulls it out, dialling Ed’s number. He can hear faint noises on the inside and then Ed picks up.

“Haz? I was just about to go to bed...”

“Can you let me in first?” Harry asks and is met with silence from the other side of the door as well as the line.

“What?” Ed asks, obviously tired and probably thinking he misheard or misunderstood.

“Your hotel room door. Can you please open it?” Harry says and can’t keep the smile from his voice any more. He hears shuffling inside the room and then finds himself face to face with Ed, phone still pressed to his ear, glasses perched on his nose, hair still a bit wet from an obvious shower, if the scent of body lotion is anything to go by. Harry lowers his phone and hangs up and Ed mirrors him unconsciously. Then he steps back to let Harry in, still staring at him like he’s some sort of mirage.

“You were in London a couple hours ago,” he finally says when Harry drops his bag in front of a chair and his coat and scarf onto it.

“Yep,” Harry confirms, before turning back to him. “And now I’m here.”

“But... how?” Ed asks, still too bewildered to do anything more than stand in the middle of the room.

“Louis has a plan,” Harry waves it off and steps closer to Ed, reaching for his hands and taking them in his own, letting his thumbs stroke over the backs of them.

“It’s never gonna work.”

“I’m already here,” Harry shrugs, because even if they’re discovered tomorrow, there’s not much they can do. They can’t force him to get on the plane sooner from afar and if they send someone to pick him up it won’t speed the process up any. It’s already worked. Ed seems to come to this realisation also as a smile blooms slowly on his face.

“Hi,” he finally says and Harry can only answer with a smile of his own.

“Hi back,” he says in return and leans forward, brushing his nose against the side of Ed’s, letting their foreheads rest together. Ed’s eyes slip shut and Harry lets his own follow, allowing the darkness and closeness of another body to settle into him before he tilts his head and leans the last inch, pressing his lips over Ed’s. It’s one gentle kiss before he pulls back again to brush his lips against Ed’s, not a tease but a simple touch; a caress like his thumbs still moving over Ed’s hands.

“I missed you,” he breathes, even though they don’t usually do this because acknowledging the distance makes it seem that much more. Ed takes the words right from his mouth, pressing in for another kiss, stronger this time. Harry thinks it’s because he maybe wishes he hadn’t said it, but then Ed pulls back and whispers, “I missed you too”.

Up close, Ed smells even more strongly of shampoo and body lotion and Harry’s about to nuzzle closer, when he realises that there’s probably dried sweat clinging to his skin and he’s more than likely a little disgusting himself, so he pulls back instead.

“I’ll just step in the shower real quick,” he says. Ed grips his hands and holds him back.

“I don’t care,” he assures him and Harry has to kiss him again.

“I’ll only be a couple of minutes,” he promises and extricates himself from Ed’s hold, stepping inside the bathroom quickly. He means to hold his promise and so he ignores that the water takes a moment to heat up and washes his hair in record time, before scrubbing down his skin quickly and efficiently. He only towels his hair off and makes sure his skin isn’t entirely wet before he slips back into his boxers and t-shirt to step back into the bedroom. Ed looks up from where he’s sitting on the bed, sans glasses now, and his face settles into a tiny frown. Harry looks down at himself automatically, but can’t find anything wrong. When he meets Ed’s gaze again, it’s amused.

“Your hair’s wet,” he says like it’s any kind of explanation.

“Well, yes. That’s usually what happens when one washes it,” he quips back and stares blankly. Ed rolls his eyes.

“No, I mean. You’re not going to sleep with it wet. Knowing you, you’ll catch a cold and knowing Tomlinson, he’ll find out and blame me,” Ed explains and pushes himself off the bed, so he can trot over to Harry. Harry’s lips are curled into an amused smile and when Ed’s close enough, he reaches out and grabs whatever parts of him he can reach - an arm and his t-shirt falling over the side of his rib cage - to pull him even closer. Ed laughs and stumbles into Harry’s chest, but puts his hands up to push him away slightly.

“None of that now. We need to dry your ridiculous hair.”

“Not until you kiss me,” Harry grins. Ed heaves a longsuffering sigh, but his eyes are alight with mirth when he tilts his head up slightly and closes the distance between them to capture Harry’s lips in a brief but sweet peck. He makes to pull back after that, but Harry grabs his hips more tightly and pulls him back in.

“Nu-uh. That doesn’t count,” he says, “ _kiss me_.”

“You’re lucky I’m so accommodating,” Ed replies, but there’s a pleased hum to his voice and he wraps his arms around Harry’s neck, one of his hands pushing into Harry’s wet hair so he can cradle his head and tilt it to the side to align their lips. He takes his time, pushing his lips over Harry’s, letting them move with his, getting re-acquainted with the feeling of them pressed against the sensitive skin of his own mouth. Harry’s tongue snakes out to lick at his lips every now and then, but Ed waits for Harry to wrap his arms around his waist entirely and growl into the kiss as he pulls him flush against him before he grins and brings his own tongue in on it. Of course Harry realises that he did it on purpose and for a brief moment, the grins that overcome them both threaten to break them apart. Then Harry sucks Ed’s tongue into his mouth and scrapes his teeth over it lightly and just like that, the grinning is forgotten and replaced by the feeling of their slick lips and tongues and the ever heavier breaths they pass back and forth. It’s only when Harry tries shifting Ed back, towards the bed, that Ed breaks away.

“Not until you hair’s dry,” he mimics. “Come on, you’ve had your kiss.”

Harry feels weirdly like a child being cajoled, but he rolls his eyes in acquiescence and allows Ed to walk him into the bathroom and sit him down on the lid of the toilet seat. Ed reaches for the hair dryer and Harry lets him to run his free hand through his damp curls, separating them in the hope of letting them dry more quickly. The warmth of the hair dryer and the touch of Ed’s fingers is soothing and Harry lets his eyes fall shut under it and relaxes into the monotony. There’s a faint ringing in his ears from the noise and he hopes they’re not waking anyone next door with this, but the thought is more like a weak awareness in the back of his mind than anything that could actually bother him. His bare feet are getting cold on the tiles, so he pulls them up and wraps his arms around his legs, resting his face on his knees. He’s not sure how much time really passes, but when Ed puts the blow dryer down and runs both hands through Harry’s hair, smoothing it out, it feels like an entirely short eternity. They stay like that for a little while longer, with Ed’s fingers combing through Harry’s hair and Harry’s pleased smile buried in his knees. Quite out of the blue - or at least that’s what it feels like to Harry - he finds himself overpowered by a yawn that finally makes him lift his head and lower his feet back down onto the floor.

“Can we go to bed now?” he asks and Ed chuckles at him - something that would probably be full blown laughter and an eyebrow raised in innuendo if he weren’t so knackered himself.

“Yeah, I think that’s a good plan probably.” Ed takes his hand and Harry lets him lead him back out into the bedroom, turning off the lights in the bathroom and closing the door behind himself. He lets go of his hand to wait by the door and light switch for Ed to turn on the bed side lamp before shutting the overhead light off and trotting over to the bed. It’s as he sinks down onto the mattress that he remembers there was a specific reason for his impromptu visit.

“Hey, are you okay?” he asks, sort of kneeling on the bed and looking down at Ed with big, worried eyes. Ed tilts his head to the side to smile up at him tiredly from where he’s lying on his back.

“Better now,” he says and the unsaid _because you’re here_ makes Harry’s cheeks flush.

“What’s going on?” he decides to press and passes a hand down the side of Ed’s face before he lies down on his side, propping himself up on an elbow, so he can rest his head against his hand.

“It’s stupid...” Ed tries to shut him down and looks away, but Harry’s not having any of it. He simply waits for Ed to turn back to him. When he does and sees the expectant expression on his face he sighs a little before giving in.

“I think it’s just... catching up with me, somehow. I’ve been doing this non-stop since I’ve been... well. Your age, basically, and it’s really exhausting. Sometimes I wake up and wonder what the fuck I’m even doing.”

“I don’t know, what are you doing?”

“I eat and sleep and sing,” Ed answers, a wry smile tugging at his lips.

“Do you wish every show was the last one, too?” Harry goes on, a small smile playing around his lips because it’s slightly ridiculous, talking in ABBA lyrics, but that may very well make it easier to do.

“Sometimes, yeah,” Ed confesses and pulls a grimace like he can’t believe he’s saying it. “Sometimes I get tired and I just want to have normal hours and come home at the end of the day to … someone who’s just there.”

Harry’s brow pulls into a frown, but he smoothes it out consciously as soon as he feels it, because this isn’t about him (he hopes), it’s about Ed. Ed seems to catch the shadow that passes over his face though and he reaches for his hand and links their fingers.

“No, hey, I don’t regret.... this. It’s just not the easiest thing, you know.” Harry just nods, because he doesn’t really know what to say to this. He’s never been in a long-distance relationship before and whenever he thinks about it too long, he feels like he has to compete with Alice, prove to Ed that it doesn’t have to end just because they rarely get to see each other. Before Ed, he’s not been in any kind of relationship he’s ever really taken all that seriously, whereas that’s sort of the only thing that Ed’s ever done. They’re coming at this from two completely different sides and it makes Harry painfully aware of the three years Ed has on him.

He pulls himself together though and leans down to press a brief kiss to Ed’s lips.

“Everyone gets tired sometimes. That’s perfectly normal. It’s kind of a bit abnormal if you’ve never felt like this in the past three or four years actually,” Harry jokes and earns himself a roll of Ed’s eyes.

“You’re doing this because it’s the only thing you can do. Not because you didn’t get A-levels or anything, but because you’re a musician. You just are. I don’t know if you’re aware of this but you sort of just... ooze music. You’re always humming or tapping out a beat or pushing around words in your head. I don’t know, maybe you think everyone’s like that, but I promise you we’re not. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I love music, but you... you kind of breathe it. Even if you weren’t in the position you are now, you’d still be making music. And if you should ever lose this position, that won’t stop you. I’d be fine, doing something else. Maybe not as fine, but I’d be okay. You... I can’t even imagine you doing anything else.”

“No pressure then, eh?” Ed tries to joke, but his voice croaks a little and he stares at Harry like he’s never seen him before. Well, this is quite possibly the first time he’s seen this side to Harry. Harry ducks his head and feels his lips curl into a nervous smile.

“Don’t worry. I’d keep you in my flat and let you pick away on your guitar,” he half-mumbles. Ed genuinely chuckles at that.

“What makes you think your career will be any longer than mine?” he asks, but there seems to be honest curiosity in it. Harry looks back up and allows his lips to lopsidedly fall into a smirk.

“Because I can base it on my good looks and boyish charm and people are kind of... stupid, when it comes to that about you.”

For a moment, Ed just stares at him, but then he grips his arms and, ignoring Harry’s yelp, flips him onto his back so he’s hovering above him.

“Are you saying I have boyish charm and good looks?” he teases, glancing down to Harry’s lips when he licks them.

“Obviously,” Harry just shrugs. Ed leans down and kisses him again - sweetly, but very deeply and Harry opens up under his lips and tongue, his eyes closed and a buzz in his blood that could honestly be arousal or exhaustion or even both.

“Are you falling asleep?” Ed mumbles against his lips and Harry makes a noise in agreement.

“Possibly.”

“That’s kind of the opposite of how this is supposed to work, princess.”

Harry has half a mind of shoving Ed off just for that comment, but in his lazy and comfy brain it sounds somewhat sweet and he’s too tired anyway. So he just hums in agreement again. Ed laughs quietly and then lies down on the bed beside him.

“Alright. I guess there’s always tomorrow.”

“We’re not leaving this room anyway.”

“Oh?”

“Well, I’m not, but if you think I’m letting you go, you obviously don’t know me very well. I’m supposed to be home sick so don’t tell anyone I’m here instead,” Harry explains and he’s not sure he’s making any sense anymore, so he opens his eyes back up to check on Ed’s expression. He’s staring at him with fond amusement and that’s good enough for Harry to let his eyes fall shut again.

“Alright. You better have a lot of entertainment planned for tomorrow then.”

“I’m sure I’ll think of something,” Harry mumbles into the pillow and it’s supposed to sound suggestive, but instead it just sounds tired. He can’t see Ed’s grin, but he can feel it pressed against his lips briefly, before the mattress shifts and then the darkness behind his eyelids gains another level. Ed lies back down beside him and squeezes his hand briefly.

“Good night.”

“Sweet dreams,” Harry answers and then shifts closer, so he’s curled up on his side, slightly diagonal in the bed, with his forehead pressed into Ed’s shoulder. Even though he smells like hotel shampoo and feels like every other cotton t-shirt, something about it is relaxing - maybe just the knowledge that it’s Ed? - and he drifts off before he’s fully finished his thought.

**The End**


End file.
